It was a thick, cotton-wool, grey silence that enveloped him. The car had
trundled to a halt at the bend in the road. It had been running quite smoothly
and then everything had apparently switched off, the electrics, the engine,
the lights, even the stereo and clock. He coasted the car to a halt in a
lay-by that was probably intended - in sunnier weather - to be parking for
sightseers so they could take photos of what was probably a staggering backdrop
of Lakeland Fells. Today it was a backdrop of vague shadows in a thick, cold
mist which had come down not long after he had left the A66 and turned up
onto the mountain road.

For a moment he sat holding the steering wheel and feeling stupid. Then he
snapped out of it, pulled on the handbrake and popped the bonnet of the car.
He fished a torch from the glove-compartment and went around to look at the
engine. Nothing looked obviously out of place, although he was no expert
on cars, presumably something had gone awry somewhere deep in its innards.
As he was inspecting the dipstick the light from his torch dimmed, flickered
and then went out. A slate-grey coldness wafted across him. The fog seemed
to absorb all sound, all light. No sound even came from the ubiquitous sheep,
which were surely all around him in the mist. He slammed the bonnet lid down
and sat on the car, wrapping his arms around himself and looking up and down
the road. In the direction he had come from it went around a corner and then
disappeared, he knew, into a deep river valley. It was at least five miles
in that direction until you got to anything like civilization. So it would
have to be forward. It was an awfully long way to Ambleside or Keswick he
knew, but perhaps there was some small village tucked in one of these folds
of land.

He retrieved his coat and a jumper from the boot and put them on. Then he
started to trudge away from the car. In a matter of moments he had walked
far enough so that when he turned he couldn't see it. He walked on for some
while, fog in front of him, fog behind and nothing but a few metres of road
in front and rocks to either side visible in any direction. Then there was
a bright light from behind him.

He turned and saw the two distinctive glows of headlights approaching him
from behind. Then through the thick mist the sound of an engine emerged.
Relief flooded through him. He would be okay!

But as the car became visible through the fog his relief turned to concern
and then fear. It was his car that was trundling towards him, swathed in
a yellow glow from the halogen lamps through the thick cloud. He could see
no one driving, in fact, the interior of the car was conspicuously dark.

The car was gaining speed. Then above the sounds of the cars engine he thought
he could hear child-like giggling, light and tinkling but somehow sinister.
The car was still gaining speed, it had started at a walking pace and was
now hurtling towards him. He turned and started to run, irrationality pushing
adrenalin around his blood stream. He rounded a sharp bend and saw the road
twist away to the right, surely the car couldn't keep up that sort of speed
on this road. He ran to where the road turned right and looked back. The
car hurtled around the corner, and headed straight for him.

For a few seconds he was caught in the glow of the headlights like a startled
rabbit, and then with the car only a couple of feet away he flung himself
sideways to the ground. He heard the cars brakes screech on and then a metallic
clang as it hit the roadside barrier. There was then a few moments of silence
whilst the car was in mid-air before a serious of deafening crashes descended
down the hillside with ever decreasing volume. It must have been a long way
down, because the sounds continued for sometime. There was a whoomph'
noise and the fog took on a red-orange tinge; the petrol tank had obviously
gone up.

He picked himself up off the tarmac and looked at the raggedly broken barrier,
and the long skid marks from the tires of his car. He had no idea what was
happening, deep in his subconscious some race-memory fear stirred.

Silence descended once more, only the distant crackle of his burning car
filtered up from deep in the valley. Then he heard it again, that light,
tinkling giggle. He tried to see into the mist - tried to see what was making
the noise.

Then something landed on his head and wrapped long spindly arms around his
face. He tried frantically to tear it off, but it held on tight, small pointy
claws digging into the skin on his forehead and cheek. It was furry, but
slimy, and the long arms around his face felt scaly. Blood started to dribble
from the points where the talons were digging deep into his skin. Panic took
a hold once more and he started thrashing around, feeling the claws moving
closer and closer to his eyes. Then his foot met soft crumbling limestone
which dropped away, and with a startled scream he pitched off the hillside
to follow his car down into the mist-shrouded valley.

The scream stopped suddenly and abruptly and silence fell once more - disturbed
only by the light, delicate giggling and the patter of tiny feet making their
way back over the hills into the misty mountain afternoon.